Heartbreaker(40)

I laugh out loud, breaking the tension. “Way to sound like a serial killer!” I kick him lightly.

Finn gives a grin. “You know that’s what the French call it: le petit mort.”

My cheeks burn, and he laughs again. “You’re cute when you blush.”

“It’s dark out, you can’t even see my face.”

“I know you’re doing it anyway.”

He rows us down the creek with long, even strokes, until the bright lights of the house are swallowed up by the trees. Still, the moon is bright tonight, casting a silvery glow on the water and marshland as we glide on by.

“It’s so quiet out here,” I marvel, listening to the distant chirp of the crickets. “You must feel a long way from home.”

Finn shrugs. “LA isn’t home. Nowhere is, really. Even when I was here, it wasn’t about the place. Home is people to me.” I can’t see his expression clearly; I can only hear a note of emotion in his voice. Or maybe that’s just my mind playing tricks on me, because he barely skips a beat before adding in a teasing voice. “Now it’s just the two of us. You can’t bolt when you get self conscious.”

“But I can push you overboard,” I counter.

Finn laughs. “I could use the cold shower right about now.” My stomach curls. Me too. Finn looks around in the darkness. “Here we are,” he says, angling the boat off the main creek. “Watch your head.”

I duck just in time as we glide under an old cypress tree, the branches dipping heavily to skim the water. It’s like passing through a secret gate. Suddenly, the woods rear up, the creek collecting in a still, silent pool, fringed with trees and grassy riverbanks. Moonlight falls against the black ripples, and all I can hear is the hush of the forest and the trickle of water slipping over smooth, worn rocks. Everything is darkness, painted with silver reflections, private and alone.

“It’s beautiful,” I breathe, taking it in. There’s something almost enchanted about this hidden corner of the world, so secluded it’s like the rest of the universe doesn’t exist.

“I found it the other day.” Finn steers us to where the water gets shallow, then jumps out onto the shore. He tethers the boat to a tree branch, and offers his hand to help me out.

“You’ve been here a week.” I hold on tightly as the boat rocks beneath me, carefully stepping onto solid ground.

“I’m a man of many skills,” Finn laughs. “And you’ve only seen a couple.” He catches me around the waist and pulls me closer. I gasp, braced for another hard, all-consuming kiss, but this time, when his lips find mine, they’re slow and whisper soft.

I melt against him, the sweetness rushing through me like a drug. His hands move to cradle my cheeks, his mouth barely grazing mine, over and over until I’m mindless with the gentle pleasure of it. He kisses me like we have all the time in the world, and I feel him, everywhere. He tastes my lips; there’s the flicker of his tongue against mine. The warm night air sighs on my hot skin, and there’s the soft press of our bodies as he pulls me closer in his arms. I go to him, sink into him, lost in this moment I wish would never end, where nothing matters except the feel of him beneath my hands, and that simmering fire slowly burning hotter, brighter in my blood.

Finn comes up for air, his breath heavy on my cheek as we stand there, holding each other in the dark. I can feel his heartbeat, strong in his chest, and I wonder how it can beat so steadily when my own pulse is racing. His hands slip over me, skimming my bare shoulders and over my silky camisole, making me shiver with sensation and a low, curling lust.

“My sweet girl,” he whispers, kissing my skin so softly, it’s like I’m made of glass. He teases one finger down my arm, watching the skin pebble in its path. “Look at you.” He starts to follow the path of my goosebumps with a trail of soft kisses, but I’ve waited long enough. I tangle my fingers in his hair, and then bring his mouth back up to mine – where it belongs.

This time, I’m the one leading the pace.

Hotter, deeper, I kiss him with everything I have, trying to drown in the feel of him, so familiar and yet so brand-new. I must have kissed these lips a thousands times over, but it still feels like the first time – something darker, more intense than our teenage kisses could ever be. Now, there’s the soft scratch of beard against my skin, and a new hunger lurking just below the surface. His hands rove, clutching harder, and I twist in his arms, needing his touch more than ever to soothe this wildfire and quench the desperate thirst in me now.

He grips me tightly around the waist and lifts me like I weigh nothing at all, pushing me back until I’m up against a tree. He reaches for my skirt, hands hot on my thighs, but I pull back. It’s always been him, pushing me further to the brink. Him, making my world unravel beneath those skilled hands. It’s my turn now, to discover everything he’s become, to learn his body by heart all over again.

I unbuckle his belt, and sink to my knees.

I hear Finn inhale in a rush. The grass is damp on my bare legs, but it’s cool and a welcome balm to the fire raging through me. I ease his jeans open, and find he’s wearing nothing beneath them at all. His cock springs free, hard and hot in my hands.

God, this man is magnificent. I taste him slowly, every thick inch, savoring the feel of him between my lips, the salty taste. Finn’s body tenses, his hands moving to cradle my head closer.